If I Took My Life Tonight
by fate-has-laid-a-hand
Summary: Is it possible to fall in love in a mental hospital? Santana Lopez will put that question to the test. Follow her insane life as she deals with love, heartbreak and literal psychopaths. All she wants is for her and her friends to make it out in one piece... Is that too much to ask? - Quinntana. Faberrittana friendship. TW: self-harm and attempted suicide.
1. Chapter 1

**If I Took My Life Tonight**

_A/N: Okay so I was watching "Girl, Interrupted" and somehow, this popped into my head. Obviously, characters are really OOC, due to the whole mental hospital thing. I don't really know if I like it, but I'd figure I'd post it anyway. It seems Brittana-ish at the beginning, but don't worry, it's definitely Quinntana. I suggest you don't read this is you absolutely hate Brittany and Santana though._

_*****Warning: deals with self-harm and attempted suicide*****_

_**Disclaimer; I don't own Glee or any of the characters portrayed here.**_

She was still alive.

I could feel her breathing. It was shallow but continuous. "Rachel! Get someone!" I yelled over my shoulder at the small, frightened girl standing by the door.

Rachel shot out of there, in search of a doctor, most likely. This place was crawling with them.

"Why?" I whispered, knowing Brittany couldn't answer me even if she wanted to. She blinked then gave me a small, crooked smile, eyes barely open. "No. You're not going to die. I won't let you Brittany. Not now. Not this easily." We were both pretty much covered in her blood by the time the whole crew came in. Doctor, nurses, orderlies. The whole nine.

I just stood there, watching them take her away. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes and I stared down at my blood stained hands and clothes. My own therapist came into the room and he just stared at me for a minute, sadness - or maybe pity, in his eyes.

"Jump in the shower Santana. We'll talk when you're all cleaned up." Dr. Sawyer said. I nodded but couldn't move. It seems as if I just couldn't get my feet to budge. Neither did he. After a couple minutes I began to walk out of her room. Brittany's room. I turned back to Dr. Sawyer.

"Will she be okay?" I asked.

"She should be just fine." He paused. "If it wasn't for you, she might be dead right now." He added solemnly.

I shuffled to the shower and scrubbed the blood off me. I tossed my clothes in the trash and got dressed in a clean white t-shirt and jeans. I walked into Dr. Sawyer's office.

"When can I see her?" I asked, lingering in the doorway. If he had said "right now" I probably would have sprinted to the ER section of the hospital but instead he said, "Not until later today." he nodded toward the seat across from the desk. A seat I had sat in dozens of times before. I sat in it once again.

"What happened?" He asked. It was a simple question. A question that I didn't really have the answer to.

"She tried to kill herself." I muttered, letting my eyes roam the room.

"I know. But do you know why?" He asked.

"How the fuck am I suppose to know." I dropped my head into my hands. "You're the one with the PhD here."

"You still saved her Santana." He said. I shrugged and stared past him, out the window and into the black night.

"How're you feeling right now?" He asked, his gaze making me uncomfortable.

"How am I _feeling_?" I scoffed. "Is that a trick question?" I met his gaze for a second then blinked away. "How would you feel if one of your friends just tried to kill herself?"

Dr. Sawyer didn't answer my question. I knew he wouldn't, that's why I asked.

"I really need to see her right now. Or as soon as their done stitching her up. I don't care if she's awake or not I just need to see her." I continued after a long pause.

He nodded slowly, as if debating it with himself. "Okay. It might be a couple of hours though and you could really use some sleep." I could tell he wanted me to wait.

He didn't want me to have to see her like that. But guess what? I had seen her almost bleed out. I think I could handle her set up in a hospital bed.

"I really doubt I could fall asleep right now." I said coldly, folding my arms across my chest.

We then talked and talked until the clock read 5a.m. and a nurse walked into the room, hesitating when she saw me sitting there.

"Could I see her now?" I asked, already standing up and facing the nurse.

The nurse looked past me, to the therapist. He nodded slightly. "Yes." He told both of us.

Then, following his lead, we went to the hospital wing. He showed me which room was Brittany's and when I quietly walked in, I was surprised to see she was awake and her big blue eyes were staring at the ceiling.

The day after I had tried to commit suicide, I slept for almost two days straight.

"Brittany." I said softly. I knew she had heard me because she flinched but continued to stare up. I walked up to her and pulled up a chair beside her bed.

"Hi." She said in a small, groggy voice that sounded like it belonged to a child who had just woken up from a nap. Not an 18 year old who had just attempted suicide for the second time.

"Hey." I said back. Her long blonde hair was sprawled out all over the pillow and her eyes still refused to meet mine.

"Why?" She asked in that same voice.

"Why what?" I asked, confused.

"Why'd you save me? Why didn't you just let me die?" Her voice cracked and tears spilled over her eyes.

I took her hand gently, avoiding the gauze wrapped around her wrist. I didn't have an answer for her. I saved her because I couldn't let her die. She meant something to me. So I just sat there, holding her hand as she cried. If it wasn't for all the tubes sticking out of her, I think I would've crawled in bed next to her and held her.

She closed her eyes and didn't say anything. Tears had stopped rolling down her cheeks and I thought she had fallen asleep so I retracted my hand and stood up to leave. Just as I was half way out the door, I heard her moving in bed. I turned to see her sitting up straight, looking into my eyes. "Now we match." She said, holding out one of her gauze-covered wrists.

I looked down at my own wrists. Faded pink crisscrossed scars were on both of them. She then lay back down and stared at the ceiling again. "For your sake, I wish we didn't." I mumbled. And with that, I turned and left the room.

I went to my room but couldn't sleep even though I was beyond exhausted. Whenever I closed my eyes, all I saw was Brittany. Brittany and blood.

Giving up on the idea of sleeping, I left my room and sat in the TV room with the TV off and my hands folded in my lap.

"What the hell happened last night?" Quinn asked, walking into the room, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Brittany tried to kill herself... Again." I answered, gaze hitting the ground.

Quinn's bright hazel eyes went wide and she covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh my God! Is she okay?" She asked, sitting beside me.

"Yeah, she'll be fine." I said and she visibly relaxed.

"Thank God. Have you seen her since?" She looked over at me.

I met her eyes. "Yeah." I answered. I really didn't feel like having a conversation with anyone right now.

"Are _you _okay?" Quinn asked, looking at me intently.

"I... I feel like there's 23 people living in my head right now, all talking at the same time." I said, rubbing my forehead. I had a killer headache.

"Only 23? Lucky." She slightly smiled at me and I gave her a small smile in return. Quinn must've figured I didn't really wanna talk about it anymore because she didn't ask any more questions. We just sat there in silence and after a while, before I knew what I was doing, I covered her hand with mine.

I expected her to pull away or make some kind of snide remark so I was surprised when she curled her fingers over mine.

Taking the hint, I pulled her close. Quinn's face was tilted up and I slightly smiled down at her.

"Wanna watch TV?" She asked.

I nodded and with the hand that wasn't holding mine, she clicked the TV on with the remote.

Quinn had blonde hair that was just past her shoulders and cut in sloppy layers. Her greenish brown eyes looked so bright against her pale skin. She sort of looked like a pixie.

We watched an old black and white movie and during it, Quinn had settled up against my chest with my arm rested around her shoulders. We fell asleep like that.

_**...**_

"What are you two doing?" The head nurse, Victoria, asked loudly the next morning, waking us both up.

Shit. I forgot there was a "no touching" rule and Quinn was still in my arms. Worse than that, we were both lying down and she was basically sprawled out across my chest.

"Chill Tor, we just fell asleep." I said, slithering out of her arms. I stood up, let out a loud yawn, and stretched.

"You know there's a no touching policy." Victoria said, crossing her arms. I raised an eyebrow.

I really hated this lady.

"Jeez, it's not like we screwed or anything." I said flatly.

Victoria's face turned bright red and Quinn jumped to her feet.

"You'll have to excuse Quinn, they just changed her meds and she's crazier than usual." She said with an apologetic smile and shrug.

Without saying anything else, Victoria left the room.

"Are you crazy?" She asked, turning to me.

"Mm, of course. Did you think I was here 'cause I was _sane_?" I grinned widely at her.

She pulled me close, pecking my cheek. "Of course. We're all sane here."

_A/N: Thoughts? Should I continue or drop it?_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Well, you guys seem to like it so far, so I'll continue. First, I'll clear some things up. _

_The main patients are; Santana, Quinn, Brittany, Rachel and Mercedes. They're all in there for semi-different reasons, which I will explain eventually. _

_It's an all-girl mental hospital but I might add a guy section to it or something on a different wing of the place. _

_Dr. Sawyer is the main psychiatrist of the hospital. _

_Dr. Miller is the main doctor._

_The name of the hospital is McKinley. Which is obviously a reference to the school in the TV show._

_Victoria is just the head supervising nurse. _

_If you've got any other questions, just PM me._

_Enjoy._

Britt was supposed to get released back to our ward tomorrow but all of us knew that she would be put into seclusion for at least a week.

That's stupid, don't you think?

You stick a suicidal girl in a room all by herself, with nothing but her thoughts to keep her company.

But, hey, I'm no doctor so I _obviously _don't know what I'm talking about.

You know, Brittany was one of those people that you'd think was perfectly normal. Other than her over the top happy, innocent personality, everything seemed perfectly normal in her world.

No one really understood what went through her mind on a daily basis.

The same could be said about Rachel.

It was different with Quinn and I though. We were the "troubled" kids. We were less discrete when it came to our emotions and pasts.

Maybe that's what drew us together.

I remember the first day I saw her. Her hair was an angry pink color and she sat there like a guy, leaning back in the orange plastic chair with her arms crossed and her legs spread. It was like her entire personality was supposed to be a big "fuck you" to her parents and the doctors.

That's what drew me to her in the first place.

The four of us have group therapy together.

That was the thing here. Four girls together in a therapy group.

Quinn hated group. She complained it was a waste of time and she was probably right, but she always did come along without a big fight.

We always sat the same order. Rachel, Brittany, me then Quinn, with the group leader, Beth, sitting in front of us.

Quinn always made snide remarks about everything and never really talked about anything serious. It didn't take me long to start doing the same.

In the beginning of every session, Beth always asked her, "Is there anything you would like to say today, Quinn?" She just yawned and shook her head most of the time, but when she was feeling really up to it, she'd shout, "Ask me that one more fucking time and I'll _really_ go crazy."

As for me, I was never supposed to be in group therapy in the first place but...I replaced one of the girls who decided to off herself with a volleyball net in the gym part of this place.

So, Dr. Sawyer said it'd be "good" for me to talk to other girls my age, since I obviously wasn't going to talk to him about anything. I used to be difficult like that.

I think that he also knew that Q and I were so similar, and that we'd get the other to open up.

Well, he was right about that.

In fact, the day I joined their group, it was like our little fucked up family was complete. We're like sisters now.

It's weird to describe to anyone that hasn't gone through it themselves, you know? But, we just understood each other.

Depressed people have a different view of the world. We see it for what it really is. None of that rose-colored glasses shit.

I love Britt and Rach, but they don't understand things quite like Quinn and I.

Yes, we're all some type of depressed. But on different mentality levels. We all deal with it differently.

At least that's what the doctor says.

Anyway, before B got shipped off into seclusion, the three of us decided to visit her.

There weren't any tubes or wires sticking out of her this time so we all just flopped down around her on the bed. After years of being poked and prodded by doctors and other patients, we had all lost any personal space issues we might have had at one point.

"Hey Britt-Britt," I smiled at her and she smiled back at the nickname.

"Hi guys," Her voice was all happy again. It was way different from the voice that came out of her last week.

"How're you feeling?" Rachel asked, absentmindedly beginning to braid Brittany's hair.

Britt gave us a shrug. "I'm okay," She said halfheartedly.

All of us knew she wasn't though.

We talked for what seemed like hours but was probably only thirty minutes.

Dr. Miller lightly knocked on the door. We all liked her, because she actually treated us like people and not just patients.

I stood up and walked over to her as Quinn gave me a questioning look.

"Can we talk?" I asked her quietly. She just nodded and I followed her into the hallway.

I had been living at McKinley for just over a year, and was considered the "most sane" out of everyone in this place so when I wanted to say something, the doctor or whoever usually listened.

"I don't think-" I stopped in the middle of my sentence after taking one look at Dr. Miller's expression. "What's wrong...?" I knew that look all too well. The _I've got bad news, Santana _face.

"Rachel's grandparents have decided to...remove her from McKinley," She said slowly, looking almost scared of how I'd react.

"_What?_" That was the only word that my brain could process for a minute. She wasn't ready to leave.

I didn't even give Miller a chance to respond to me. I walked back into the room, grabbed Quinn's arm and pulled her out. She only protested a little. I turned to the doctor. "Tell her what you just told me." I said, folding my arms over my chest.

Dr. Sawyer repeated the news to Quinn, who was apparently the second sanest person in McKinley. Well, that's at least what it said in the files I grabbed from Sawyer's office last month.

My blonde friend pretty much had the same reaction as I did.

"Rach isn't ready to leave," Quinn shook her head.

Dr. Miller sighed and nodded. "I know that, guys. But her grandparents are the ones keeping her here and since she's not technically considered a hazard to herself or others anymore, there's nothing stopping them from taking her."

This was in no way fair for anybody involved. From experience, I knew Rachel was batshit crazy but she had good reasons to be. She had been in here the longest out of the four of us. Almost four years.

Because when she was fourteen, she watched her father shoot her mother five times then turn the revolver to his own head.

No kid could ever be quite right after seeing that. She basically went crazy.

There was no use for either me or Quinn to argue with the doctor, since I knew it wasn't her call.

I took a deep breath to control my temper when I felt Quinn's hand on my shoulder.

"What I was originally going to say was, I don't think Brittany should be put into seclusion. She already feels shitty enough, and setting her up in a room all by herself, won't help her." I was kind of surprised that Miller seemed to actually be thinking it over.

With a bunch of pleading and convincing, Q and I finally got Dr. Miller to release Brittany back to us in the ward.

…**..**

I wasn't sure if Rach knew she was leaving next week, but if she did, she sure as hell didn't show it.

Her and Britt shared a room just like Quinn and I did, so I knew they were close. 'Cause if you wake up at 3a.m. screaming, it's basically your roommates job to calm you down before some nurse comes running in.

So, if Britt didn't know about Rachel leaving, then Rachel probably didn't know either.

I was really wondering how both Brittany and Rachel would take the news.

I knew it wouldn't turn out too well.

I also wondered who would be taking Rach's place.

_A/N: Sorry about the shortness, but thoughts?_


End file.
